The Great Tragedy Of Life Is Not

Dear To Me Is Sleep: Still More, Being Made Of Stone, While Pain And Guilt Still Linger Here Below, Blindness And Numbness--these Please Me Alone; Then Do Not Wake Me, Keep Your Voices Low.

The Art Of Creation Lies In The Gift Of Perceiving The Particular And Generalizing It, Thus Creating The Particular Again. It Is Therefore A Powerful Transforming Force And A Generator Of Creative Solutions In Relation To A Given Problem.

I Feast On Wine And Bread, And Feasts They Are.

It Is Not Sufficient Merely To Be A Great Master In Painting And Very Wise, But I Think That It Is Necessary For The Painter To Be Very Moral In His Mode Of Life, Or Even, If Such Were Possible, A Saint, So That The Holy Spirit May Inspire His Intellect.

If People Knew How Hard I Worked To Get My Mastery, It Wouldn't Seem So Wonderful At All.